


Five Times Takamaki Ann Brought A Friend To Her Movie Premiere (And One Time It Was Her Girlfriend)

by fall_into_life



Series: The Darkest Timeline [2]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/F, Implied/Referenced Pairings, Post-Canon, alcohol mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-19 20:51:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17608757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fall_into_life/pseuds/fall_into_life
Summary: Ann is very determined to keep her private life private, by any and all means necessary.(Until she's ready, that is.)





	Five Times Takamaki Ann Brought A Friend To Her Movie Premiere (And One Time It Was Her Girlfriend)

The first time Takamaki Ann has her own big time movie premiere, she's nineteen and determined to make her own name. 

She probably would have taken Ryuji anyway, but Ann knows enough about the press by now to know she can't give them anything about her (nonexistent) love life. Ryuji is basically her little brother, and no one has ever mistaken them for literally anything else. She doesn't really think the reporters will care about her, but her older coworkers warn her strongly enough that Ann decides to be careful anyway. 

So she, Haru, and Makoto stuff Ryuji in a suit, and Ann takes him along. 

The press go nuts at first.

“Ann! Ann!” One of them calls, between blinding flashes. “Who is this? Someone special in your life?” 

Ann laughs. “Oh he's special, alright. We've known each other since we were kids and I know every little special thing about him.”

The reporters all zoom in, bloodthirsty grins in place. 

“Is he your school sweetheart?” 

She laughs again, determined to keep her cool. “As if! Hold on, let me show you how bad this nerd messed up his hair the first time he tried to dye it without me.”

Ryuji yelps, glaring at her. “Ann, what the--” He barely manages to stop himself from swearing. He promised he wouldn't. “You can't show them that! They're gonna put it on the internet!” 

Ann swings her purse around, rummaging for her phone. He yelps louder and lunges for it. She wraps an arm around his neck and puts him in a headlock without even looking up from her purse. 

(Several spontaneous nosebleeds form in the crowd as Ann keeps him in place. Her arms might not be as defined as they were when she used a whip most nights a week for hours at a time, but the appreciative muttering shows she definitely hasn't been letting herself go.

More than one woman has to make frantic internet searches that night, after trying desperately to clean blood out of their sleeves.)

“Look at this.” Ann pulls up a picture, turning her phone around to show the reporter. The screen shows a picture of an orange-haired sulking boy who is easily four or five years younger than the struggling young man standing next to her.

The reporter laughs politely, inwardly despairing. “Forgot the toner?” 

“Yup,” Ann grins, dropping her phone back in her bag and letting Ryuji go. 

“I'm never going to get laid again,” he grouches, trying in vain to fix his hair. 

Ann smiles mock-sweetly. “Shouldn't have eaten the last of my ice cream!” 

The reporter chuckles. “Hell hath no fury like a woman missing her ice cream!” 

Ann laughs along, and she drags Ryuji down the carpet. 

(Later, the editors for multiple gossip columns curse Takamaki Ann's name as they try to spin romance into the article. Ultimately, there's more cursing than spin; it's just about impossible to sell romance when one half of a pair is giving the other a noogie.)

[*] 

The next time Ann does something big enough for a premiere, Haru volunteers to come with. 

They cut through the other attendees. Haru outfits them both in dresses that nod to their Phantom Thief outfits, deep red for Ann and light pink for Haru. There's just enough edge to Ann's smile and Haru's eyes to keep the first few questions polite, just things about the filming and movie content. Then someone gets brave. 

“Is that the Okumura heiress with you, Ann?” The reporter smiles, and Ann smiles right back without even clenching a fist. She knows that tone by now, and hates it. 

“Yup!” Ann chirps. “We've been friends since we were in school together!” 

Haru giggles, covering her mouth with her hand. “Yes, we have. No showing any embarrassing pictures of me, though!”

Ann nudges her, genuinely affectionate. “Like I have any!” She turns to the reporter, including him in the joke. “Somehow Haru always looks pretty, even when she falls asleep on her history book! It's enough to make a girl jealous.”

The reporter opens his mouth, but Haru gets there first with a horrified gasp. “I never did that! Tell him I didn't do that, Ann!” 

The assembled crowd laughs, willing to be charmed. Ann gives them a mischievous look. 

“Sorry, it was actually a math book!” 

They leave the reporter behind in the wake of laughter too loud for him to get another question in. 

(Later, those same editors groan and throw up their hands. Implying the Okumura heiress is in a lesbian relationship would have them buried in lawyers. The two of them clearly have chemistry, but without something solid, nobody can say a single suggestive word. More cursing results. Spin does not.)

[*] 

For a while after that, Ann does a series of indie projects too small to get a big premiere. 

She can go to the openings by herself, and does, fending off questions with a polite smile and a level tone. No, she's not dating anyone. No, she doesn't plan to. What kind of men is she interested in? Well, she's focusing on her career right now, so she's not interested in anyone. They go on and on, but Ann is more stubborn than any gossip columnist, and they continue to get nothing out of her. 

She brings Akira to the next big one. He stands tall and handsome in his tuxedo, his signature glasses reflecting camera flashes. 

“Who's this, Ann? Your boyfriend?”

By now, it's a game. Who will cave first, her or the press?

Ann snorts, wrapping her arm around Akira's. “No, no. He's very happily married.”

“Oh?” The reporter tilts her head with the air of a woman who knows someone, but doesn't know where from. “Is the lucky lady anyone we know?”

Akira smirks, tilting his head. “Kitagawa Yusuke.”

(In the editing room, a hush falls. Someone asks loudly, “Who the fuck is Kitagawa Yusuke?”

One of the interns, terrified but determined, clears his throat. “He's an artist, sir.”

The chief editor turns to the intern, already feeling his article fall down the drain. “Is he any good?” 

“Very, sir,” the intern stammers. “His latest showing was a series revolving around his husband. They're-they're well known in the art world as being disgustingly in love.”

The chief editor snorts and turns back to the live feed, certain he can make something out of this.)

The reporter clearly doesn't know who that is, but picks up on the male name. “What interesting company you keep, Ann!” 

“Akira's one of my oldest friends!” Ann chirps, with a smile that doesn't hide the threat in her eyes. “I stood at his wedding.”

“No embarrassing pictures,” Akira deadpans.

The crowd laughs, and the reporter concedes defeat. “I'm sure they were good ones!” 

“They're on my other phone,” Ann pouts, “next time I'll show you the one of Yusuke face down in his own wedding cake!” 

The reporter lets them go on, and resigns herself to not breaking the streak of Ann completely failing to be gossip fodder. 

(The editor does not, in fact, make something out of it. Everything he finds about Akira and Yusuke shows them almost uncomfortably secure and in love. There are even a few tasteful pictures of Ann giving a speech as Akira's best maid. If he tries to make it look like she's having an affair with one or both of them, he's just going to make his own publication look bad. 

One of his junior editors buys him a bottle of sake in solidarity.)

[*]

At the next premiere, Ann finally talks Makoto into coming with her.

“Ann! Who is this? Someone special in your life?” 

The game has progressed into an almost desperate plea. After Ann publicly supported gay rights at a recent rally, the press have gotten more gender-neutral in their questions about Ann's (still nonexistent) romantic life. Ann may not be a household name, but she's known enough that having her admit to a lesbian relationship would be a big deal. She can't get offended at the implication after her speech at the rally, but no one has much hope of her admitting anything, either.

(Some of the interns have a hush-hush betting pool about Ann being asexual. The pot grows every time she dodges questions about her costars.)

“Oh, very special!” Ann says, with the smile she reserves for when she knows exactly what someone wants and isn't about to give it to them. (Internally, the reporters all wilt.) “This is Makoto, my best friend!” 

Makoto smiles, clearly uncomfortable. “Since we were in school.”

“Just friends?” The reporter probes. It's more habit than instinct; they're starting to give up hope Ann will ever crack. 

Ann covers her mouth with her hand, laughing. “Definitely. We're like sisters.”

Makoto's smile gets more real. “I'm the sensible older one, and she's the impulsive younger one.”

Ann pretends to be hurt, nudging Makoto with a pout. “Hey!”

The other girl raises an eyebrow. “Which one of us tried to eat--” 

Eyes widening, Ann places her hands in the center of Makoto's back and starts pushing her towards the building entrance. “No, no, no, no telling that story!” 

“Do you have any embarrassing pictures for us, Makoto?” The reporter calls after them, laughing. 

“No, she doesn't!” Ann calls back. 

“Yes, I do!” Makoto counters, before they both go into the building.

(The reporter covering this beat thinks, at first, that he's finally struck gold. The two of them have good chemistry, and while they both say they're just friends, that won't stop anyone from implying they're more. He can finally, after years of Ann dedicating things to her dog, write an article that hints at her seeing someone. 

Then he looks up Nijima Makoto, and breaks into his boss’ sake stash. 

Nijima is the latest in a long line of police officers and lawyers, including her older sister. She rushed through university and is aggressively on track to becoming the youngest police commissioner in history. Even if people were willing to believe Nijima had the time for a relationship - which she very much doesn't - she's also close to the Okumura heiress as well. Between her older sister, and one of her close friends, Nijima could lawyer up so hard his family would be dealing with lawsuits for five generations.

In the end it's a very nice piece that doesn't imply anything, and the reporter wakes up with a massive headache the next day. He'll curse the name Nijima for the rest of his life. )

[*]

By the time Ann brings Futaba to a premiere, the press have just about given up. Ann has spent multiple interviews dedicating her work to her dog, her friends (friends plural, never singling anyone out), and the cast of her movies. She's brought both Haru and Ryuji along with her multiple times, much to the exasperation of the press, who can't imply anything about her relationships with them. When she shows up with Futaba next to her, only the newest and stubbornest reporters even register it as a blip on their radar. 

“Who's this, Ann?” It's become more of a joke. The reporter has to ask, and Ann has to answer, but they both know the script. “Someone special in your life?”

“This is Futaba!” Ann smiles.

Like with Ryuji, Ann had to wrestle Futaba into something nice. Unlike with Ryuji, Ann had a powerful bribe on her side for Futaba.

“How did the two of you meet?” 

“Internet,” Futaba answers, eyes scanning the crowd. 

The reporter blinks. “Where on the internet?” 

“Internet,” Futaba says again. Ann stifles a laugh. 

Before the reporter can ask any more questions, Futaba's eyes go wide, and she darts away towards a bob of pink hair. 

“She came with so she could meet Takeba Yukari,” Ann explains. “She grew up on those Featherman Ranger shows, and got really excited about me being in one.”

The reporter's smile is strained, but really they expected nothing less. They're not going to be able to say a word about Ann and Futaba when the other girl is very visibly fawning over Takeba Yukari, who is taking it in good, if bemused, grace.

Ann continues down the carpet, snags Futaba by her collar, and continues inside. 

[*] 

The press have unofficially given up. Ann has become a meme in the movie world, and a drinking game among gossip columnists. She politely but insistently talks about her dog as the “special man” in her life, only takes a handful of incredibly platonic friends to her premieres, and is very, very good at keeping her private life private. The betting pool about her sexuality has long since resolved itself, and everyone assumes that either Ann just isn't interested in anyone, or that she'll come out with it one day in a carefully planned press digest. Gossip columnists find other targets, and Ann continues gushing about her dog and her friends. 

Then comes her biggest movie yet. She's breaking into international waters with this one, a tragedy that spins her as a heroine responsible for trying to save an entire town. Veteran journalists still crowd around the limo that arrives with her in it, but not a single one of them really expects to get any kind of scoop. 

The door opposite the carpet opens first, revealing a tall, striking woman in a full tuxedo tailored perfectly to her. She walks around the car, opens the door, and reaches inside. 

Ann steps out, smiling up at the woman assisting her. She's wearing a full-floor dress in silver and black, with a slash of the dark red that's become her signature. When she straightens up, it's onto stiletto heels that still don't put her at eye level with the silver-haired woman at her side. 

They stride onto the carpet, Ann's arm wrapped around her date's elbow, pushed in close and smiling wide. 

“Who's this, Ann?” It's a joke, a meme, a script they both have to follow despite knowing all the words. “Someone special?” 

Ann beams. “This is my girlfriend, Sae!” 

The carpet goes silent. The camera flashes slow, then halt. Even reporters from other sections of the carpet stop and stare. Ann's costar drops her wine glass. No one notices.

The reporter swallows once, twice, three times. He has to ask the next question, even though he knows the answer. His earpiece has gone silent, and he can barely keep his television face on. 

“Do you mean… romantic girlfriend?”

Ann looks up at Sae with such open affection that it was never really a question. Sae looks back down with indulgence, eyes never leaving Ann. They're so picture perfect that this may as well be the movie, never mind the film about to play inside the building.

“Yep!”

Ann goes into how long they've been together, how they met, and how they started dating. Sae never interrupts, but does occasionally contribute little pieces. It's the kind of conversation that any one of these reporters would have killed for at the beginning of Ann's career, or even last year. Now, all they can do is stare. 

(Exactly one photographer gets a good set of pictures from that night. An older gentleman who used to do war photography and only kept on because his pictures are acceptable and several higher-ups are fond of him, he thrives in the hush and stillness following Ann's proclamation. He makes a lot of money from that night, as the only options for pictures are between his and a few shaky phone pictures. He secures himself a job for the rest of his life.)

Ann and Sae walk inside, Sae's hand falling to the small of Ann's back as Ann makes heart eyes at her girlfriend. The reporter turns back towards the camera, visibly shaken. 

“That's… Takamaki Ann… and her girlfriend. Good night.”

(Many, many people in the media industry that night drink themselves into a hangover the next day.)


End file.
